


to feel another's woe

by beeberry



Category: AR∀GO ロンドン市警特殊犯罪捜査官 | Arago
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28926201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeberry/pseuds/beeberry
Summary: Joy and woe are woven fine,A clothing for the soul divine.Under every grief and pineRuns a joy with silken twine.-William Blake
Relationships: Seth Stringer/Oz Miller
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	to feel another's woe

Seth’s mind is as clear as the blue summer sky outside. So he remembers.  
  
It doesn’t click at first. He never knew the exact date. But the first time he asks someone where Oz is, Coco looks hesitant and sad, and Seth wonders who died before she even gets out that Oz is visiting their graves. She looks at him, and Seth knows she is wondering if he knows whose graves, if he remembers. She sees that he does and asks if he wants to go.  
  
“I… shouldn’t, this is...”  
  
She drives him to the graveyard.  
  
On the way there, they are mostly quiet other than Coco explaining that Arago went earlier and came back. Oz must have wanted to be alone, Seth thinks. There isn’t anyone who can truly share in this grief with him. There’s a neat division between the people Oz knew before and the people Oz knows now. There is no crossover between them.  
  
It’s not hard to find Oz, red head bowed and kneeling though he is, amid the rows of thin crosses.  
  
Seth quietly sits next to him. It takes Oz a moment to gather himself and force a smile, blink dry eyes and look at him.  
  
“Oh. Seth. What are you doing out here?”  
  
Seth reaches for Oz’s arm. He opens his mouth—he had thought about what to say, he’s sure there had been a quote in his mind on the way here, borrowed words because that was all he had to offer. But those, too, are gone now.  
  
Oz waits, patient, always, like a tree standing season after season, slowly growing ring after ring of new wood and slow roots.  
  
But Oz’s roots had been ripped out, hadn’t they.  
  
Seth sits up because Oz is too damn tall even kneeling in the dirt, has to shuffle a little to get in front of him. He wraps both arms around Oz’s neck and uses his one hand to press Oz’s face against his shoulder.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
For a minute, Oz doesn’t move, so Seth doesn’t either. He just holds on tightly, and slowly, eventually, he feels Oz raise his arms and hug him back. Just a tug at his shirt at first. Oz takes a deep breath and his hands press flat against Seth’s back. Deep breath. Oz moves his arms to hold Seth tighter, practically pulling him into his lap, and by then Seth can feel something damp on his shoulder.  
Surely Oz had mourned his comrades already. He had had time while Seth was locked away and dreaming, he had had Arago and the others around to help him through. So now he had only a little weeping to do on the anniversary, now he could make do with the little warmth Seth could offer. He wasn’t emotional like Arago or Rio, he wasn’t soft like Coco, Seth was a heap of cold, sharp points and an absolute mess of a broken body and a broken brain, and a heart that had never been quite right from the beginning.  
  
He shouldn’t have come.  
  
He couldn’t not come.  
  
Seth doesn’t loosen his hold at all until Oz does. Oz sniffs and sighs and lets go, so Seth pulls away, uncomfortable now that he’s had time to think about this.  
  
Oz kisses him.  
  
Seth blinks dumbly. Oz’s hands are cupping his cheeks.  
  
“Thanks for coming, Seth.” He closes his eyes and presses their foreheads together. “I mean it.”  
  
Seth makes a confirming noise and puts his fingers back in Oz’s hair. There is a taste of salt on his lips.

  


_Can I see another’s woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another’s grief, and not seek for kind relief?_ —William Blake, Songs of Innocence 

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a fill for an araseth prompt. i fucked up and wrote sethoz before I even realized. love you, noa, i'll write a kiss in grief for araseth eventually


End file.
